


#tgif

by Anonymous



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Knotting, Anal Sex, BDSM, Bestiality, Breeding, Collar, Consensual Bestiality, Consensual Humiliation, Consensual Objectification, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Knotting, M/M, Other, consensual degradation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-03
Updated: 2019-03-03
Packaged: 2019-11-08 08:51:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17978183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Fridays are Sam's favourite days. Fridays are the beginning of his time-off. Fridays are when he starts coming down from the stress of the law firm.Thankfully, there is Gabriel, who has just the perfect thing to melt all the stress off of him.





	#tgif

Fridays are his favourite days. 

During the week, he basically belongs to the law firm – between his regular hours and all the overtime he puts in, he spends the majority of his time at work. Or commuting to or from work. And sleeping. There isn’t much to his life beyond that, really. Maybe a beer or two, every few weeks, with some people he might consider better colleagues on their way to become his friends.

But Fridays. Fridays are something else.

Fridays are the first day of his weekends. Fridays are the good days. 

He is always in a good mood when he wakes up on Friday morning. Because he knows what he will be getting once he’s home. What will wait for him. Who will wait for him.

It makes the time at work so much sweeter, because whenever he is annoyed, he sits back and thinks of what he’ll get to have, soon. What he’ll get to enjoy for the next two days, as soon as he’s home. And that, that brings him down from every annoyance, from every exhaustion, from everything that has accumulated during the week and its too-long work times. 

He is only a junior lawyer, but his work ethics are excellent and the time he is putting in is slowly but surely tilting everything in his favour. Of course he is always on his best behaviour. Charming his colleagues – those that can be charmed – and entering dick comparison contests – those that are into aggressive male contesting. He can play the fields, as long as he’s careful. He can do it, if he’s careful and always looking out. Five days per week, as soon as he leaves his home.

But Friday afternoons, Saturday, Sunday, those are for him. He turns off the phone, too. If there are emergencies, he will deal with them from Monday morning on. Has done so as soon as he’d left law school – the first time something had cropped up, his turned-off phone had almost meant the end of his new job. But he’d proven himself. He’s good at what he’s doing and by now he’s earned his weekends off. 

Let Samuel Winchester solve this, his colleagues say, in this voice that implies they utterly trust him to pull miracles from thin air. It’s…a lot. Even if he doesn’t want to put further pressure on himself, he does. How can he not, after this?

So during the weekends, he winds down. Relaxes. Turns off his phone and does what – what he wants. Needs.

Most would probably smoke pot, get hammered. Take drugs. Something to take the pressure off of them.

He does, too. Just not like that.

On Fridays, he works the full day, but as soon as he leaves the law firm, his phone is turned off. Because he’s excited to go home. 

Two and a half hours. 

That’s how long it will take him to get to his personal paradise. His bags are always packed by Monday or Tuesday evening, as soon as everything had been washed and/or cleaned.

So, as soon as he’s home on Friday, he grabs his bags and gets to his car. Two and a half hours. Maybe two, if he hurries, but he’s not banking on it. After all, he’ll get to have more than two days, either way, and he already knows how he’ll be spending them. And for that, it is important that he’ll arrive as relaxed as he can. Hurrying and speeding will only stress him out further and that is the exact opposite of what he’s supposed to bring.

Gabriel will be waiting for him, of course. 

He always is, with that gleam in his eyes and that wicked smile on his lips and if Sam hadn’t had any butterflies in his bellies, he always has them by the time he knocks on his door. It is their lovely little routine. He’ll knock and Gabriel will tell him to put his bags in the guest room on the ground floor. 

There’s a bathroom, too. And Gabriel will tell him to “refresh” himself, and they’ll both know what exactly that will entail as well. 

After all there’s a bottle of scentless shower gel, too. And oil. A bottle of it. Sam’s heart always jolts whenever he sees it, and he’s ashamed, but yes, he gets half-hard at seeing it, because he knows exactly what he’s about to get and… - but first, he showers. 

Only after that, after he’s dried himself, does he finger himself open, fingers slick with oil. It feels brilliant, and his cock throbs painfully at what he’s hoping for, at what he needs, at what he will get, as soon as he’ll get to the living room. What is waiting for him – who is waiting for him. 

His cock has probably been throbbing since Sunday evening, when he’d left Gabriel’s the last time.

He needs it. He burns with how much he needs it, like he’ll die if he doesn’t get it, now, immediately, and for hours and days on end.

But he fingers himself open dutifully. That’s what he’s supposed to do: finger himself open until he’s slick and wet and, at least in theory, able to take a whole fist without much struggle or pain. He could, even though he never tries. But his ass is wet, close to dripping with how much oil he used. It will last him for quite some time, and by the time that will have dried up, he’ll be slick and dripping with something else. And he can’t wait.

So he pulls out his fingers and washes the oil off: his ass is now entirely clean – and wet with oil, stretched out. Prepared to take it, like he’s supposed to.

He opens the small casket that has been set out only for him: the collar inside it is still as it had been put last weekend. His collar. His little gift. His, for the weekend, just as he was – well. Gabriel’s, in the end, during the weekend.

His heart almost vibrates, it beats this quickly, but he puts it on. It always is exciting to put it on, to feel the soft, supple leather against his skin, to feel the weight settle against his throat. A gentle reminder of whom he belongs to, as long as he’s wearing it. 

No worries, no thoughts, nothing he’ll have to decide nor do, as long as he is wearing it, because Gabriel will decide, and they both know – have both agreed on – what his role is during these days. 

His cock is throbbing, at the thought.

Almost. It is almost time.

He goes to the living room, where Gabriel is waiting. Is always waiting, at this time of the week: their little lovely ritual.

After knocking at the door, he gets to his knees. His cock almost hurts with the arousal he’s feeling, although nothing has happened so far. But it will happen, is about to happen, and he cannot wait. But he must. He doesn’t get to decide, even though he knows when he’ll be getting it, because Gabriel has been trustworthy, has never let him down and always given him what he needs when he needs it.

And then, finally, Gabriel calls him into the room, so he nudges the door open and crawls into the room.

No matter how often he’ll do it, shame will always make his face burn hot – it is rather humiliating, but that is the thought behind it, to put him in his place, make him feel it.

In front of Gabriel, he stops, keeping his head down.

“My good girl”, Gabriel says, voice almost lazy, “Is it your time yet?”

And he can only nod. Girl. Gabriel has called him ‘girl’, because that’s what he is, now, and probably Gabriel will call him – that, that other term, will call him that, too, because he is, he so is, and he will get it like he needs it, too –

“Let me see.”

Sam keeps still, not sure what it is that Gabriel wants the most –

“Let me see how wet you are, bitch.”

Bitch. Gabriel has said it, has called him what Sam hates hearing almost as much as he loves it – because it sends a hot thrill through him, makes him shiver in arousal. Bitch. He is that. He is a bitch.

Obediently, he raises his leg.

Like this, Gabriel can absolutely shamelessly see how hard Sam is already, despite nothing having happened already. No one has touched his cock so far, and while Sam has fingered himself, he hasn’t been playing with his rim nor with his prostate, having kept the fingering as unarousing as he can.

“Oh my”, and Gabriel laughs, foot gently tapping Sam’s cock, “You are wet, girl! Are you really so far into your heat?”

He nods, lowering his head. Heat, like a dog. Because dog bitches got into heat, and he is. He does. 

“Show me your cunt”, Gabriel orders and leans forward, so Sam lowers his head and grabs his ass cheeks, spreading himself and putting on the display for Gabriel.

His ass must be quite the show. He’s not sure. But he has been good, he has stretched himself all proper and he even checked if his rim is all nice and slick and slightly puffy, because he knows how much Gabriel likes that. 

The sharply indrawn breath confirms it, and that sends another thrill through him. He did good. He is ready to get it.

“That cunt of yours needs a good breeding, bitch?”, Gabriel asks, almost conversationally, “Push it open.”

Sam does, as much as he can.

“Now clench.”

Again, he does. Any second now, Gabriel will give the order, will get him what he’s been dreaming of the whole week. What he’s been missing the whole week, during all the time he’s been dealing with terribly dry law issues –

“That cunt of yours really does need a cock, doesn’t it? But don’t worry, I have just the thing for you.”

Gabriel gets up and Sam swears his heart will beat out of his ribcage any second now. This will probably never stop being as nerve-wracking as it is.

“I wanna watch you getting bred, bitch, so get into position.”

Sam scrambles to follow the order, turning slightly so Gabriel will have the best view from his armchair. Head lowered to the ground, ass raised high, knees spread – he is in prime breeding position, and soon, any second now, he will get it. He will. He has been so good the whole week and now he is getting his reward –

There’s a faint barking –

Sam bites his lip and closes his eyes and tries not to think of how much on display he is right now. But he’s a good bitch. Gabriel wants him to be good. And this is the best position to get bred in, too. Even if it is slightly humiliating to be this much on display, showing off how much he needs it.

A sharp breath.

And a laugh.

“Oh my, I hadn’t expected you to need it _this_ badly, girl. But don’t worry, Loki will fix you right up.”

Sam can hear panting and the click of toenails on the floor. So far, Gabriel hasn’t given the order –

“Loki -”

 _Now_ , it will happen _now_ –

Sam’s heart is thumping –

“- **_breed_** ”, Gabriel orders.

And immediately after, there’s a furry weight at Sam’s back, paws wrapped around his hips and Loki is scrabbling at him. Nails scratch him, and he can feel a wet cock smearing precoma across his ass, one thrust, two, three, and Loki wraps his paws tighter, adjusts his thrusting – good dog, he does know Sam, after all –

And then, his cock finds Sam’s ass, another thrust, still trying to find it, and –

He thrusts in, in one long, deep, snap of his hips.

Sam moans, finger nails digging into his palms at the feeling of Loki’s massive cock stretching his asshole wide open. No matter how much he prepares himself, this is something else. It is primal, the way Loki fucks into him.

For Loki, he is just another wet hole that needed to be bred. Another slick cunt that was supposed to take his cock, and taking his cock, he did.

Loki hammers into him, snapping his hips against Sam’s, a quick, harsh rhythm. Loki doesn’t care that Sam is a human, might need a slower pace to get him off. No, dogs don’t care, they only want to breed as deeply as they can, so Loki’s cock pushes into him, barely taking time enough to pull out. Only trying to get deeper and deeper, stretching him wide open, hot and burning into him. 

He whines at the feeling of being used like this, of being nothing more than a slick, warm hole for a dog. A dog. Loki, breeding him, nice and deep.

So Loki keeps on fucking him, until Sam can feel the first swellings of Loki’s knot. 

Oh.

Loki will truly and properly breed him full of pups, then.

He braces himself and tries to keep his asshole open, relaxed – but then, who is he kidding, he is getting fucked by a dog. He is not the one who’s in control of this breeding. Loki is. Loki is fucking him, properly by now. His nails are scratching Sam’s back bloody in excitement. Finally a proper cunt, after a week of waiting for him. There’ll be a lot of come to be dumped, after such a waiting period, after all. 

By now, the knot is stretching Sam’s ass even further with every thrust. Just so deliciously stretching him raw and open, and what if he can’t keep it in like a good and proper bitch is supposed to? Loki is keeping a too-quick pace, too fast for Sam to clench around the knot and keep him inside, like he’s supposed to. 

So Loki keeps on fucking him, while his knot swells, and soon, it is becoming too much, his knot too fat for Sam’s ass to take – fuck, it hurts, but in this delicious kind of way, too good and too much, and he prays for Loki to keep fucking him like this forever, always on the edge of too much, fucking him until his ass his sloppy and dripping and too loose to clench shut –

But Loki doesn’t do him the favour. Instead he tries popping his knot deeper – as if he could, he is as deep as Sam can take him, really – but this tiny moment of readjustment is enough for Sam to hurriedly tighten around Loki –

His ass hurts, of course, and Loki has fucked him properly, like any good stud fucks their bitch, but Sam’s ass can clench enough. Enough that Loki makes a noise and bucks slightly and stills, not pulling his fat knot outside again and –

There’s the first throb of hot dog come in his ass. And then another. And another, a stream, and if possible, Loki’s knot swells further, Sam doesn’t know, doesn’t know anything, but Loki has stilled, is staying where he is and his knot is inside Sam’s ass, knotting him – like a good stud. Filling him deep with come, filling him right up. Breeding him. Like any good bitch would be bred. 

Sam can feel the come being dumped into him – but he can’t come, it is so close, so terribly, utterly close – but not enough. He wants to, his toes are curling already, but he cannot, not quite. So he whimpers but doesn’t dare to sneak a hand to his cock, to make himself come on his stud’s knot, like a good bitch would do automatically. After all, for a bitch in heat a proper knot would be enough, wouldn’t it?

But he isn’t, not quite. He hasn’t been trained enough to come on a knot alone. Not yet, at least, but he will learn, surely.

So for now, he’ll have to stay like he is, aroused and so, so terribly hard and dripping and close, Loki pumping come into him, his fur tickling his back and itching against the scratches.

“Good bitch”, he can hear Gabriel’s voice, from far, far away. It sounds pleased and amused. As if he offered a good show, did a good job, for Gabriel. And Loki, too.

Loki huffs a wet breath against his cheek and Sam closes his eyes, enjoying the deep throbbing of Loki’s cock in his ass, as long as he can. While they are knotted for now, soon Loki will pull out. Best he’d enjoy it for as long as he can.

And too soon, Loki tries to pull out, but without success. Sam whines and whimpers at the force of Loki trying to pull out and at first, he is successful, the dog unable to pull out. But his rim has been fucked open, fucked sloppy, and Loki is stronger than him, his knot wide and fat and pulling at his ass. 

Sam can take a lot, but this, this is too much. He wants Loki to stay inside of him, mate him longer, again, something, anything –

But Loki pulls out, with a resounding pop, he pulls out.

And Sam whimpers, back bowed –

And comes, at the feeling of Loki’s fat knot popping out of his asshole, his ass now stretching around nothing.

Without even touching himself, he comes, and –

And Loki sniffs at his ass, where his cock had been, a moment before, and then he – Sam whimpers at the feeling of the dog’s tongue lapping at him. Lapping the dog come right from his ass, because Sam can’t keep it in, ass too loose after this intense fucking.

So Loki’s tongue easily slips into him, slobbering the come right out of him, and Sam whimpers, high pitched and needy and desperate, because it is too good, too much, too intense, after his orgasm, after the fucking, he’s – he can’t take this, he just can’t –

“Loki, back.”, his relief comes. Gabriel sounds authoritative, so sure, and Loki follows immediately.

Sam tries to get his breath under control again. His cock is throbbing with the orgasm still, as is his asshole. Except that one is also trickling come, too. 

“Enjoyed the breeding?”, Gabriel asks, audibly amused.

He can only nod and hope that Gabriel saw that.

A laugh answers him.

“Better not keep that cunt of yours empty, shall we?”

And with that, something is pushed into him. His ass is too sensitive, so at first he tries to just – not let it. But Gabriel is persistent and makes this clucking noise, as if trying to discipline a dog. Him. Gabriel is trying to discipline him.

He unclenches his asshole, as much as he can, and Gabriel slips the thing into him – a plug? The weight of it nestles into his ass, heavy. Keeping him all stuffed up, ass clenched tight.

“There. Now you’ll keep all that dog come right where it belongs. And that cunt of yours will stay slick and ready for the next breeding, too.”

Sam sighs, happily, and closes his eyes.

A slight smile is on his lips.

Two more days of this.


End file.
